Science & Faith

"Come on! Greta makes the best food! We can't miss this!" I pulled on Sidney's hand, but he wouldn't budge. He just stayed put next to his car. "We're already here, we can't leave."

"Yeah, but I'm warning you now. Kris was pretty pissed off at practice yesterday. I'm pretty sure Greta and Kris are fighting."

"Well, I'm hungry. Let's go!" I tugged on his hand and this time he moved with me.

We walked right here and the smell of food instantly hit my nose. It was all the classics: turkey, mashed potatoes, and pie. Thanksgiving in Pittsburgh was easily becoming my favorite holiday. Sid kissed me and went into living room with the guys. I went into the kitchen to find Greta and Vero.

"Oh good, you're here." Greta looked disheveled and was running around the kitchen with an apron on. Vero was leaning against the stove with a wine glass in one hand and spoon stirring the pot in another. "I need to finish up the turkey; can you make sure all silverware is set out on the table?"

"Sure, who's all here anyways?"

She stopped moving, "Me, Kris, you, Sid, Vero, Marc, Tyler, Max, and Jordy. Nine of us." I nodded my head and went out to the dining room. Thanksgiving was going to be good with this group.

***

Just like two years ago, we all went around and said what we were thankful for. My family was healthy and I was surrounded by friends, what more did I need?

Braydon and woken up from his nap and joined us just as we started to eat. Greta sat next to his high chair and cut up food for him. Kris just sat and talked with his teammates. The Winter Classic was fast approaching and was a still a hot topic.

Braydon ate with his hands and took some turkey and tried to throw it at Jordan. It didn't land very far from Braydon, but his giggles caught everyone’s attention.

"Hey big guy," Max called out, "Don't throw food. We all know Vero feels about that." Vero just shot him a look and he laughed. "So the kid can throw food and everyone finds it cute, but when I throw food I’m accused of ruining a dinner?"

"You're a grown man, Max." Vero scolded him. "There's no reason for you to throw food."

"So, if Sid's called 'The Kid' is he allowed to throw food?" Max was trying to find a way around Vero’s words.

"He's 23 years old! No, he can't throw food." Vero was not expecting it, but she found a lump of mashed potatoes on her plate. Max was innocently holding his for his hand. "Maxime Talbot!" She started yelling at him in French and I just sat back and watched.

Sid grabbed my hand under the table and whispered in my ear, "Are you doing anything tomorrow?" I shook my head. "Don't make any plans; I want to take you out."

I turned my head and faced him, "Alright, as long as we get out of this meal alive." Vero continued to yell at Max and the rest of us finished our food.